violence

Sakitumi

*

What is Sakitumi?
A decaying Japanese fish dish
which awakens violence in people

saiom shriver
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Family Truths

Family Truths

By jfarrell

 

 

It was addressed to me; it’s my 6th birthday;

Dad’s gonna open it… well, why not? Who do I know at 6?

Little white envelope with a stamp;

I’m chuffed I can read my name…

And someone sent me something, on my birthday.

 

There was a letter and some polaroid photographs;

1973, the height of technology :-)

Dad read the letter, looked at the photos

And went to the pub.

I didn’t think any more of it.

 

About 6 hours later…

“Tell me what you did!” whack!

“Tell me the truth you little……” thump!

“Tell me about these….” as he throws some bits of card in front of me.

I blacked out, somewhere there.

 

And awoke face down in kitchen sink

With hot water being poured over my head;

I couldn’t work out why all the water was red.

“Tell me about these!”

‘These’ being polaroid photographs of my being raped that Summer.

 

Turns out, ‘Uncle Brian’ had sent a similar letter and photos

To my cousin’s parents; he groomed and raped us together;

They went back to Ireland and I know nothing else about him, them;

For me, dad had to beat the ‘gayness’ out of me;

And Uncle Peter still blames me for ruining his marriage.

 

And I still feel like a frightened 6 year old

With no idea of what’s going on.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

neither my parents, nor my cousin's contacted the police - mine was a messed up family

Sticks and stones….

Sticks and stones….

By jfarrell

 

 

(I don’t know the origin of the saying, but heard it often growing up)

 

“Squeal for me, little piggy”

Uncle Brian screamed as he beat us with his belt buckle;

He and his friend raped my cousin and I, aged 5;

 

“You always were a girl”

My dad screamed (after he heard);

Beat me so bad, I passed out.

 

“I wish I’d had you aborted….”

You can guess who said this to me;

Though she could hit hard, her tongue always hurt worse.

 

“Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But names will never hurt me.”

This was a favourite saying of dad’s… as he let loose.

 

Funny…

45 years later…

The scars from the beatings have healed up…

 

But the pain from the names….

And everything associated….

Twists like a knife in my heart, today.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

one of the greatest lies in the world.... along with the licence is in the post and of course i'll still respect you in the morning

 

tick...tock....tick....tock.....

 

;-)

Slap!!

Slap!!

By jfarrell

 

 

Stop being a girl! Stand up and be a man!

SLAP!!

Don’t let them call you names… hit back…

SLAP!!

 

Take the sweets…. and the comics….

SLAP!!

Now, take my member…

SLAP!!

 

How could I have given birth to you?

SLAP!!

You’ve ruined this family!

SLAP!!.

 

You live in a children’s home?

SLAP!!

Lick my shoes, scumbag!

SLAP!!

 

You know you want these magazines… take them….

SLAP!!

Join my gang, take these pills….

SLAP!!

 

35 years later…

My ears are still ringing

From all that slapping.

 

I think it’s called post traumatic distress disorder (PTSD)

But, every psychiatrist I see

Gives me a new label.

Borderline personality disorder, aspberger’s syndrome,

Acute anxiety disorder;

Sexual anxiety, socialphobic….

Depression….

 

Maybe,

It’s none of them things….

I just got slapped about the head too much as a kid;

My ears (and my mind)

Are still ringing from it.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

.... sorry, didn't hear what you said, you'll have to shout above the ringing..... ;-)

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incey wincey spider

 

Incey Wincey Spider

By jfarrell

 

Incey Wincey Spider, climbed up the water spout;

And when you fell a sleep; he got his stinger out;

And when you woke the house, in fear and alarm;

Incey Wincey uncle says… “I wasn’t doing any harm.”

 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star;

My younger sister, I wonder how you are;

So many years, we’ve been apart;

Like a lead-weight in my heart;

Twinkle, twinkle, little star;

My younger sister, I wonder how you are.

 

Three blind mice, a coward dad

See how they run, see how he drinks;

He beats his wife because she cheats;

He beats his kids because he’s weak;

He blames the drink, but it’s his fists that speaks;

Three blind mice.

 

Ring-a-ring a roses is about mass death, disease;

Baa baa black sheep is about taxes;

All nursery rhymes come from somewhere ‘orrible;

Somewhere far darker.

 

Just a thought…

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

the story behind nursery rhymes is remarkable, don't think there's any horror story behind twinkle ttwinkle little star, but bba bbaa black sheep was about taxes, and cant remember if it was the plague, or turculosis for ring a ring a roses, hehe

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Welcome to the Dark

Welcome to the Dark

By jfarrell

 

Roll up! Roll up!

Right here;

Is this seat comfortable enough?

Please keep your arms, legs and head in the car.

Are you ready? …. twinkling, charming, innocent smile

…... (whispered) Let’s go!

 

….(with a hushed, suppressed excitement)

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me thank you for choosing Jim’s Tours,

My name is Jim and I am your tour guide tonight.

But, enough about me, you’re here for Dark;

Hope you’re not screamish :)

 

On your left, police tape, long dead baby in the attic;

Look right, rapist uncle, lying dead with his throat cut;

Left, just under the bridge, a terrible ghost

This is where my mum should be hanging;

But she’s not dead. Yet.

 

…..tour guide collapses, but quickly staggers up, uncertain;

Oh my; wot horror; right next door;

His neighbours, 8 christian souls, innocent and pure;

All with their throats cut and drowned in petrol;

But, not burnt. Yet.

 

Please DON’T be sick in the car; over the edge please;

Are you sure you want to see THE bedsit? Where it happened?

No, you’re not a sicko - you’re here for the…

Waking middle of the night with a lit cigarette

So close to your eye it stings with the heat.

 

It’s your turn tonight, in the children’s home, with this wacko;

He’s bored; so, tonight, it’s your turn to burn, again and again;

Arms; legs; chest;

Tell who? My keyworker who is trying to groom me for abuse?

The pornography he’s giving me, suggests he wants more then ‘friends’.

 

Or, the park behind the library, that summer;

That one day, school holiday;

Playing hide and seek with friends

And seeing what happened to that poor woman.

The punches. The kicking.

 

…. tour guide takes out walkie talkie;

It’s Jim, get the wake up and cleaning crew again, please

This place stinks of sick

And my tourists have passed out;

Again.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'll see you on the dark side of the moon

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The Nymph

She was a beauty
Hair like silk.
 
She was colored gold,
Skin white as milk.
 
I saw her in my mind,
Felt her in my arms.
 
Woke up from the nightmare,
Recalling no harm.
 
The thoughts went on for hours,
The dreams went on for years.
 
Day merged into week,
Tear after tear.
 
She tore my family,
The silky haired nymph.
 
But so long as I got my fix, 
My ambitions would remain limp.
 
One day I saw the girl,
On 23 and 8th.
 
Just as I had remembered her,
Every little detail in place.
 
I approached her from behind,
Courteous as could be.
 
She said a kind "Hello",
And acted like she'd never met me.
 
"'Tis I" I replied,
She giggled and turned away.
 
I grabbed her by the hair,
I was never one to play.
 
I was oblivious to her screams,
It was all in good fun.
 
Surely she must remember!
She was the one!
 
I took her back home, 
Laid her in bed.
 
Gave her a drink,
Stroked the silky hair on her head.
 
"Let me go," she pleaded,
But I had done no wrong.
 
Surely she must be joking,
We'd been together for so long.
 
This went on for months,
The silky haired girl and I.
 
I never got her name,
All she did was cry.
 
One night she tried to run,
Oh how dumb she must've thought I.
 
But I let her go swift And fast,
She could never hide.
 
As you can well imagine,
I found her hiding in the forest
On the following eve.
 
She was broken, matted, helpless,
Simply Splitting at the seams.
 
I could take a hint,
She didn't want my love.
 
So I let her go,
With a passionate push and loving shove.
 
I have yet to confess her whereabouts
She's still "missing" to this day.
 
The bitch should've listened 
 
 
                         I was never one to play.
 
 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Over & out.

 

turn the tv up

Turn the TV Up

By JFarrell

 

You hear my dad shouting again, drunk;

You’ve heard it before;

You know what comes next;

And what do you do?

Turn the TV up.

 

You hear the first slap;

My mum screams,

Followed by 2 or 3 muffled thumps;

And what do you do?

Turn the bloody TV up.

 

You hear him start on the kids, shouts, slaps;

Muffled cries, screams…

Ah, finally, silence, they’ve stopped.

And what do you do?

Turn the f*cking TV up.

 

 

You see the bruises on my face the next day,

As you have many times before.

You smile and are polite, as if you don’t know what happened, you are complicit.

What you SHOULD have done, last night,

Was turn the f*cking TV off and call the police.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

a personal one that hurt a lot, but it NEEDS to be said

Your egotistic delusions of self waste

I am the shadow, fading into silence

 

I am the words you shoved in a box

 

I am blood, sex & violence

behind the symbol of peace

 

I am light enraptured unto the void

from a thousand years of cosmic darkness

chasing the souls of stars

 

I am the mirror you wish to avoid

with the tears that coiled down the drain

& the years wasted on nothing--

but what you thought was yourself...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

5.10.15